


When the Bartender Knows Your Name

by TypingThroughClouds



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bartender Lance (Voltron), Cats, Developing Relationship, Drinking, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, lance is a disaster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:47:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28366392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TypingThroughClouds/pseuds/TypingThroughClouds
Summary: Bartender AULance works as a bartender at the Lion’s Head and Keith is a badass biker who works at… a cat shelter?
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 97





	When the Bartender Knows Your Name

It started out as meaningless flirtation.

The guy who came in every Friday with the mullet messy from his motorcycle helmet and ordered a double shot of the cheapest Whiskey on the rocks was just too serious, and Lance had to lighten the mood a bit. It’s not his fault that his default in situations like that are to flirt his way to oblivion.

And to be truthful, the guy was intimidating. The delicately badass look he had going on, his seeming incapability to smile, not to mention the fact that he was quite possibly the most attractive man he had ever seen in his life.

Not everyone can pull off a mullet.

And flirting had always been something to hide behind, a front that most of the time was a great tension diffuser.

He hadn’t meant to actually _fall_ for the guy.

Hunk found it hilarious.

“I mean, you flirt with everyone, this has never happened before!” he said in the kitchen of the Lion’s Head during one of Lance’s breaks, preparing the food for the dinnertime rush.

“I know, that’s the problem! You’ve gotta help me, I think I’ve got it bad,” he whined, leaning his weight against the cook and planting his face into his shoulder.

“Why don’t you ask him out then?”

“Huuunk! I can’t just ask him out, he’s really…”

“What?”

“Closed off I guess,” Lance answered. He moved away from Hunk and started fiddling with the buttons on his friend’s fancy bread maker, “I mean, he won’t even tell me his name.”

“Hey, don’t touch that. You don’t know his name?”

“I’ve tried asking! He just gives me that cute little frown and doesn’t say anything.”

“Well, why don’t you try getting to know him a bit then. If anyone can get past a tough exterior it’s you.”

“I’ve tried! He doesn’t answer and then I go off on a nervous ramble about nothing and totally embarrass myself.”

“Don’t then.”

“Hunk!”

Hunk sighed, shifting his focus off the food and onto Lance.

“You really like him, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you just have to be patient. You know what Shiro always says. Patience yields-“

“-focus. I know,” Lance nodded dishearteningly. He knew Hunk was right, but his little crush had grown to extreme proportions. It was starting to affect his work, especially on Fridays like today when he struggled to focus on anything else. He wasn’t sure he could wait that long to do something about it.

Ultimately though, he knew Hunk was often right about these things, so once the cook had left for the day, after the Pub stopped serving food, and some of the evening crowd filtered in, he had psyched himself up for some hopefully fruitful conversation.

He had gone through countless possible conversations with the motorcyclist in his head and countless outcomes to those conversations and he was pretty sure he was ready to start getting to know the mysterious, quiet man his mind couldn’t seem to forget about.

Unfortunately, it was particularly busy that evening as the pub was hosting a one-off karaoke night. It was one of Shiro’s ideas to keep his pub afloat during a particularly difficult financial patch; one of many, none of which had been particularly successful so far.

It meant he was too busy serving drinks to notice the dark-haired man come in, and he almost jumped when he saw him sitting in his usual spot at the side of the bar.

“The usual?” he almost shouted over the too-loud microphone and Karaoke track. He got a simple nod in reply. He was wearing the same red and white leather biker jacket he always did, his hair windswept and face stony.

Damn was he beautiful. He barely looked _human._

The icy chill of the glass as he set it in front of him snapped him out of his daze.

“One whiskey one the rocks for the handsome man in leather,” he winked.

The biker didn’t even acknowledge his less than subtle attempt at flirting, but Lance noticed how the muscles in his shoulders seemed to relax slightly as he took a sip of his drink.

“Hard day?” he asked, attempting a more subtle route to getting to know the guy in front of him.

He got a mere shrug in return as he turned to look at the person currently singing Frank Sinatra on the makeshift stage.

“Pretty good, isn’t he?” Lance asked, following his gaze, to which the biker nodded.

“Don’t usually expect talent at a karaoke night.”

Well that was the largest number of words Lance had heard him speak in one go. He quickly latched onto the offered line of conversation.

“That’s Joe. He used to be a professional jazz singer in the seventies. He sometimes performs here properly on Saturdays.”

“What’s with the whole Karaoke thing anyway?”

“It was Shiro’s idea. He owns the pub and thought it would be good for business. I’m not sure why he thought getting a load of drunk, tone deaf, old guys to sing would bring in customers but we just go with it.”

Lance was sure the corner of the guy’s mouth turned upwards in a small smirk as he turned back to watch Joe’s performance. A silence followed in which Lance fiddled with his dishcloth, his mind working a mile a minute to conjure the courage to keep talking. This week he was determined that the conversation would not be one sided.

Lance served some other customers drinks for a while as he tried to push down the sudden influx of nerves that had assaulted his system. Joe finished his song and no one else took the stage which meant a blissful break from the mostly terrible singing that had been berating his ears all night and he took the opportunity to go back to the corner in which the motorcyclist was sitting.

“So… what’s your name?” he asked, and the biker turned back to look at him, seemingly surprised he had returned. “You’ve come in every Friday for like two months now and you’ve never said.”

The man considered him for a moment before speaking.

“Keith.”

“Keith! A beautiful name to fit a beautiful man.”

Dammit. Why couldn’t he just leave off the cheesy pick up lines for one night.

But to his surprise, Keith actually smiled. _Smiled!_

“And here I was beginning to think your face was paralysed from the nose down,” he remarked with a cheesy grin.

“What?”

“I’ve never seen you smile before,” Lance translated.

“Oh,” Keith replied, and be still Lance’s fluttering heart, he actually looked down as if to check what his mouth was doing. It was utterly _adorable_.

“You should smile more, it suits you.” To Lance’s delight, Keith face turned a deep, blush red.

“Oh… er, thanks, I guess.” Somehow, Lance’s grin grew even wider.

“I’m Lance by the way.”

“I know.”

He knew? How did he know? _Keith knew his name!_

“I’ve heard you talking to other people.”

“Oh. So you were spying on me?” He accused dramatically to which the poor guy looked stricken.

“What!? No! No, I wasn’t-“

“Chill dude,” Lance interrupted, “I’m just kidding. But seriously, why have you never said hi before? I’ve talked at you enough; I was beginning to think I wasn’t wanted.” He said that last bit dramatically, hand to chest. Keith looked uncomfortable.

“I’ve just never been great at casual conversation,” he shrugged.

“Well I happen to be an expert,” Lance replied, “I mean, it’s literally my job. Speaking of, what’s yours? What do you do, I mean?”

For a moment Lance was convinced he wasn’t going to answer, and his heart dropped slightly at the thought of this being the end of their conversation. He was silent for so long Lance’s eyes darted back to his own hands which were fiddling with the dishcloth again. He had never been good with silences.

“I work at a cat shelter.”

Lance was completely sure those quietly spoken words absolutely could not have come from Keith’s mouth. Except the only other person sitting at the bar was Old Jeff who, as per usual, had long since drunk himself into a stupor.

Lance just stared at Keith for a moment, so surprised at this new revelation that he was uncharacteristically lost for words.

“You… you work at a cat shelter?”

Keith nodded. “The one down the road,” he added like that was the bit Lance was most confused about.

“ _You_ work at a cat shelter.”

Keith scowled at him. “Yeah. So?” The words were short and slightly aggressive as if he was daring Lance to say something against his profession.

“Well, it’s just not what I was expecting is all.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I dunno, like a motorbike dealer or something or- or another type of dealer…”

“Like a drug dealer?” Keith gripped his glass angrily.

“No, no, not- not that,” he backtracked quickly, “I just meant, er-“

“It’s fine,” he said through gritted teeth, “I’m used to people assuming things.” To Lance’s dismay he stood up, downed the rest of his drink which was mostly just melted ice now, and turned to leave.

“No, wait, Keith, I’m sorry!” Lance called after him, but he was already through the door and into the cold midnight air. He stood there, looking after him long after the sounds of his motorbike faded into the distance wondering how it could have all possibly gone wrong so fast.

He beat himself up all week. He really hadn’t meant it the way it had sounded, it was just his big mouth getting carried away again. He’d definitely ruined any chance he potentially had with the guy, if he was even into dudes in the first place.

Now that he had taken a step back from the whole fantasy he’d conjured up in his mind with the two of them living happily ever after and making love ‘til the end of their days, it was actually pretty improbable. I mean, why would a guy like him even be interested in a guy like Lance anyway. It had been hopeless from the start. It didn’t stop it from hurting.

It was worse when the next Friday rolled around and Keith didn’t show up. He hadn’t expected him to, but still, it upset him to know he might never see him again.

“You have got to snap out of it, dude,” Pidge told him, taking the two empty pint glasses he was holding while his mind had been wandering, and filling them up for him. Pidge worked part-time at the Lion’s Head. She was eighteen and really quite small for her age but had the presence of a woman three times her size.

“Huh?”

“Hunk told me you’ve been pining after that biker dude and I’m not gonna pretend I didn’t hear your conversation last week.”

“You did?” He hadn’t even noticed she was in the vicinity. She nodded and he groaned. “I really messed up.”

“Yep,” she said, popping the ‘p’, “accusing him of dealing drugs probably wasn’t the best way to his heart.”

“I didn’t mean to! It just came out like that. Ugh, I don’t know what to do.”

“You could always go and apologise?”

“I don’t know where he lives,” he replied miserably. Pidge stopped in her drink pouring and looked at him in the way she always does when he’s being stupid. He wracked his brain but came up with nothing.

“What?”

“Maybe I misheard, but I’m pretty sure your argument was about where he worked, no?”

“Yeah, so?”

Pidge facepalmed.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty,” she muttered under her breath before looking him in the eye. “You should go to the cat shelter tomorrow and apologise.”

Lance considered her words for a moment.

“I don’t know, Pidge. Maybe I should just leave it. He seemed pretty angry.”

“Lance, I’ll be honest, if I have to deal with you moping for another week, I might accidentally do something I regret. Like murder. And I know Hunk and Shiro feel the same”

“Wha- jeez okay, I’ll go.”

“Good,” she replied before walking away with two now full pints of beer.

That was how Lance ended up standing outside the Altea Cat Shelter the following day. It was a grey, unattractive building with its name written in cursive on the front with flowers dotted around the words in a futile attempt to make it more appealing to visitors.

There was a chill in the air despite the sun and Lance had his hands clenched in the pockets of his green parker jacket. He had been standing in the same place for about ten minutes deciding whether it was a good idea to enter. Pidge was a genius. She worked at the Lion’s Head to pay for school tuition at the prestigious university in town and she was crazy good at computers. But Lance knew she wasn’t the most tactful in social situations.

Then again, he really did feel guilty about what had happened with Keith, and he had just got the guy to open up. He needed to apologise. And what was the worst that could happen?

The air was blissfully warm as he finally stepped into the carpeted reception area and a man on the desk with striking orange hair and a brilliant moustache greeted him enthusiastically.

“Hello! What can I do for you today? Are you here to adopt?”

“Er, no, sorry. I’m just… does Keith work here?”

“Keith Kogane? Why yes he does! We’ve just had a new litter of kittens come in so we’re all pretty busy, but I’m sure he won’t mind having a visitor.”

“Are you sure,” he asked nervously, “I don’t want to disturb anyone.”

“Not at all my dear boy!” the man got up and motioned him to follow, “if you just sanitize your hands and I’ll show you through.”

Lance rubbed a glob of hand sanitizer into his hands before following him through a door at the back. It led into a room that was a lot nicer than Lance was expecting considering the exterior of the building and the reception area. The walls and floor were both wood and there were shelves all around the sides with cats of every colour and breed lounging happily in the sun that came in through the windows. In the centre was a forest of cat trees and towers, the floor littered with toys.

There were two people focused on a small fenced off area where the tiniest mewling sounds were coming from.

“Keith!” said Coran, and both of people turned around.

Keith was attractive, he had established that a long time ago, but _holy heck_ he didn’t think his heart could take the sight of him with the smallest, cutest kitten cradled in his arms. He looked shocked to see Lance and his face morphed into his signature scowl. It wasn’t quite so threatening in this setting.

“I’ll just leave you to it, Keith,” said the woman next to him. She was also stunning, with flowing silver hair, flawless dark skin and a soothing voice. Maybe it was a requirement to look like a supermodel in order to work here.

She left with Coran and suddenly the room felt a lot bigger and more intimidating despite the cats. The silence stretched on for miles.

“What’s the kitten’s name,” asked Lance gesturing at the ginger ball of fluff in his arms.

“Red.”

“Huh. Makes sense.”

“Why are you here,” asked Keith, never letting up with his frown. Lance rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

“I came to apologise. For the other day.”

Keith said nothing.

“So, sorry. I really didn’t mean to imply you dealt drugs or anything, and I actually think it’s awesome you work at a cat shelter, I love cats! And this place is cool and you probably save them from dying on the streets or whatever so that’s extra cool and-“

“Lance.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s okay. Allura said I overreacted.”

“Oh… Allura?” he asked, pointing to where the beautiful woman had just left. Keith nodded.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Why did asking that question make his heart thump so loudly?

“No. She’s not really my type.” Right. So definitely gay then. That woman was surely everyone’s type.

“I really am sorry though. And I don’t think you overreacted; it was a stupid thing to say.” Keith cocked his head slightly to the side like a curious puppy, his bangs falling in front of his eyes. The kitten was sleeping soundly against his chest.

“It’s really okay, Lance,” his heart fluttered every time he said his name, “it’s just, people have made the wrong assumptions about me my whole life and I guess I’m just sensitive about it.”

Lance nodded.

“I think I get what you mean actually. And for what it’s worth, this place suits you.” And it did. A lot. Now that he saw him here, he couldn’t imagine him working anywhere else.

There was another silence, so heavy Lance though he could be crushed by it.

“Would you like to hold Red?” asked Keith suddenly. His eyes held a vulnerability Lance would never have expected of him. But then again, everything about Keith was unexpected.

“Are you sure?”

Keith nodded and Lance slowly walked forward and held out his hands. Keith’s fingers grazed his own as the tiny kitten was placed into them and he could have sworn he felt electricity.

A spectacular calm washed over him in that moment, despite the fiery heat he noticed Keith brought to a room, with the sleeping kitten asleep against his chest, entrusted to him by the man he had come to realise he could very well love one day.

“You can stay here for a while if you want?”

Lance looked up in surprise at the soft expression on Keith’s face as he watched him cradle the small animal. His heart gave another flutter in the sereneness of the moment.

“I’d like that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [typingthroughclouds](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/typingthroughclouds)
> 
> Send me a prompt! I've decided to start writing drabbles to practice and improve my writing, so I'd love to hear from you.


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